Borne upon that midnight lost in longing—
Though lost in naught--its own desire--
Forever flung into a maddening dream--
One so forever sought by men thronging
At the insidious pearls--Paradise Hearth.
Damnable desire in all purest gait--
A god in my hands, war upon the gate.
Those upon the highest choir--whom we all forsake,
Know this man--alighted in his doom.
For even as the stars weave their tainted webs
We, the God Kings of memories long lost--
Shall ever be forgot.